


soft, feathery turnings

by ThousandSunny



Category: One Piece
Genre: Canon Universe, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Nothing HAPPENS but still, nothing too major, some spoilers for Wano Arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-10-30 02:44:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20807225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThousandSunny/pseuds/ThousandSunny
Summary: It’s like this. If he wants all the booze, he’ll take it. What he wants, he can have.So then what is this feeling inside his chest?





	soft, feathery turnings

The cook is standing there, like an idiot, tall and sharp and Zoro's staring at the man's other eye. It's not that different from the last one, but it's different enough that he's looking. Studying, memorizing the new planes of the cook's face and the parts that have gotten sharper. Unfamiliar to his memory. 

Things are different, somehow. 

"Shut up, number seven," says Zoro, because it's easy, because it's the only way to say those words. To push them out there into the space between them and to say he was_ counting. _

That he wasn't _ waiting. _

"Don't number us, you shitty swordsman," says the cook, as he lights a cigarette and Zoro's looking at him, for the first time in a long time and he looks taller. Stronger. "It's a miracle you got here first - unless you spent the last two years trying to learn the way back." 

Like he didn't just see Zoro slice a _ ship _in half. 

"I'll show you what I spent the last two years doing, shit cook," says Zoro, and he's got Wado at Sanji's neck but there's already a shoe in his face, pressing against his jaw and Zoro would grin, if he couldn't feel that killing intent. 

They're stronger, now. Capable of slicing a Pacifista and snapping a neck and he doesn't really get it, how things aren't that different, this time around. That things have changed - they've changed, and yet it's still the same, this impossible feeling inside his heart. 

"I'll show you, too," says the cook and it's exhilarating, that promise, the foot withdrawing and the cook's face, contorted into a vicious grin like he's _fond. _

Something aches inside of Zoro, something burns, where the cook's promise lingers inside him. 

\- 

It's infuriating, to turn back and see the cook with the entirety of the G-5 team running after him, following like idiots and infuriating too, to see them just _ letting _ it happen. That they don't even know what trap they've falling into, as they're running behind him, open and joyous and eager to follow the lead of a _ pirate. _ It's the Franky Family all over again except that time he could waive it away, as they followed Paulie and Franky and Luffy and came only for barbecues, for food and drink and party and they didn't come _ for him. _

He understands it later, when they're drawing lines and crying about how they can't afford to like pirates, and then in the same breath lining up for the cook's food. Because he's there too, in that shitty line up, waiting for his bowl and watching. 

The cook is grinning, hands open, heart exposed on his sleeves and Zoro doesn't get that, either. 

The all-too open smile, offered so freely and the shitty marines are _ blooming _ under it. Coming back for seconds, eager to stand for just a second longer in the presence of their _ hero. _ And he gives it to them, served in a ladle, pouring warmth out and he doesn't get this, the feeling inside his chest that's blooming despite himself, a sharp monstrous feeling he’s not familiar with _ . _

He doesn't get it. He doesn’t get this desire. This need to monopolize, to take that smile so freely given and hide it all away. 

He's standing in the same line, now, and it's only for him that the cook's smile turns sour, that he drags his cigarette out of his mouth and the ladle cuts a little sharper. 

“You want anything else with that stew, marimo?” asks the cook, and there’s _ bread _behind the cook and Zoro doesn’t know where it came from or how but that’s the cook. A man capable of making something out of nothing.

“Service with a _ smile, _ ” Zoro says, instead, because he knows the cook will take the bait. And he doesn't know why he does it, why he's trying to distract the cook from _this. _

There's still bandages on the offered leg, held between them. As good as a knife, and there’s naval officers booing and hissing and cheering all at once. Zoro's hand grips the ankle, feels the hardness of the bone, pressing against his heart.

“Go eat your stew, you shitty swordsman,” says the cook, because there’s still a line and the cook won't leave people hungry. 

He just doesn't get it. 

-

It’s not that he’s never wanted anything; it’s just that nothing he’s ever wanted has been out of his grasp. If he trains hard enough, he’ll get there. If he fights harder, he’ll become it. The rules never entertained him, the restrictions never mattered. 

It’s like this. If he wants all the booze, he’ll take it. There’s no sharing, no giving it away. He’s a pirate, after all. What he wants, he can have. 

And yet. 

She’s smiling at him, with a fondness that he doesn’t expect. A look of admiration that doesn’t _ belong _there. 

And that idiot curly-brow is twirling like a fool, letting himself be lead by her. It’s not the first time he does that for a woman. It’s just the first time that Zoro’s seen them look at him like that. Look like they might, just a little, know what’s lying underneath. 

She doesn’t know what he knows. 

She doesn’t know how his body moves. The slice of his kick. The sharpness of his heel, digging into your heart. The curve of his neck. The gentle movement of his hands, as they stir some miracle concoction together. The way they _ provide. _

She doesn’t know what he knows. 

And yet. 

After, when the battle ends, when everything goes quiet on Dressrosa and everyone is rebuilding, she finds him. Zoro doesn’t know why she chooses him, of all people, to deliver the message. 

“Can you tell him thank you?” asks Violet, looking fond in that moment, her eyes looking far off and dreamy. Like she’s seen something important - and maybe she has. Maybe she knows something he doesn’t. 

That bothers him more than he wants to admit, too. 

“Tell him yourself,” Zoro asks, because he’s nobody’s errand boy and he’s nobody’s messenger and it’s strange, how his tongue tastes bitter with those words. How he feels a sense of something stirring in his belly. 

She blinks back, as surprised as he is. And then she smiles. 

“I hope we meet again, Roronoa-san," Violet says, and he doesn't know what that means either. It's a woman thing, probably. There's a lot about woman he doesn't really know. That he doesn't want to know, either.

All he knows is that he wants to set sail as fast as possible. That he wants to get far, far away from here. 

\- 

They love him on Zou.

Everywhere Zoro turns, there's someone thrumming praises, sing-song stories of a man with a heart as golden as his hair. Of scrumptious meals served in their eleventh hour. Delicate soups and hearty stews. 

"Can you tell him," asks one girl, to Nami. She looks at them with eager bright eyes, her hands clenched together and gaze faraway. "He made my mother's last meal. I couldn't because - 

Because everyone was dying, Zoro knows, and he doesn't need to hear the story as the girl bursts into tears. As he walks away from it all, because it's clear as day what happened on this island. What everyone is thinking, what they're feeling. 

It burns inside him, just a little warmer, a little hotter. 

-

Usopp is the one who finds him, when he's training. The one who sits down beside him and looks far away, into the distance. Like he's trying to be that witch back on Dressrosa, seeing 2500 miles away and picturing the world around him. Like he's trying to see something that Zoro doesn't get, either. 

"What if Sanji doesn't come back?" he asks, because it's a question that's worth asking. "What if he marries Big Mom's daughter?" 

Zoro feels sick, his heart thudding in his chest and it's uncontrollable, this reaction. This physical deformity and he's sick, probably, but there's no Chopper to ask and Law's the last person he'd go to with this kind of problem. So he moves instead, his palms on the ground and in time with each erratic beat, he pumps. Arms up, arms down, over and over. 

Sanji's as strong as one thousand men, and Zoro's stronger - strong as_ two thousand men_. Or he will be, if he trains. If he keeps pushing his arms down, and up, over and over again. 

"He'll come back," Zoro says, because of that certainty, he's sure. Of the unwavering ability of Luffy, to bring them all together. 

"But what if he brings back a wife?" squeaks Usopp, and he's clearly thinking ahead. To the trouble of having an Emperor chasing after them with fierce stubbornness and dirty tricks. All because the cook can't control himself around women. 

"We'll deal with it," says Zoro, as his heartbeat quickens. As his pace increases.

It bursts over his skin, this unsteady acknowledgement. This feeling that he didn’t ask for and it blooms as the waves rock against the boat. As Usopp disappears to find someone else to make a contingency plan. 

Suddenly he's starving - and nothing on the ship will do. 

-

The cook's leg strikes against his face and Zoro stumbles under the weight of that fury. He's grabbing another sword, a sharp blade that he twists upwards, turns to face the cook with _ fury. _

"Don't get carried away, you shitty marimo," says the cook, eyes burning with fury and Zoro doesn't know what he's done or what warrants such anger but he's ready to snap back, to beat the cook to pulp. "Someone like you doesn't deserve a lady like Hiyori-san." 

Zoro blinks, a confusion bubbling inside him and a warmth spreading across his chest. His blade sings as he slices back and he's _ an idiot. _

"Jealous, cook?" he finds himself asking because he's not even looked at Hiyori that way and yet - _ and yet. _

"You don't look good with her," says the cook, leg swirling and Zoro's blade parries, feels the heat of the fire and it blooms across his smile, the joy spreading across his body. 

He presses closer, until the cook’s leg is folded up and his blade is pressed between them and he can feel the heat off Sanji’s body bleeding between them. Until they’re breathing the same air. Side by side, folded in one place together. 

“Yeah, I don’t,” says Zoro, the quiet affirmation pressed into the space between them and Sanji’s looking at him.

Really looking at him. 

"Yeah, you don't," agrees the cook, and he folds his leg back down but the space between them doesn't dissipate, doesn't fade away into nothing. 

-

Later, on the ship, after they set sail from Wano, Nami says, "You know, I'm surprised Pudding didn't come after us. She seemed to really like you, Sanji." 

Zoro feels it again, the thumping in his chest. The sudden blooming irritation that lingers in these moments. 

"I chose _you,_ Nami-swan," says Sanji, and he's making his noodly arms and his heart eyes and fluttering like an idiot. But for just a brief second, he kicks his gaze to Zoro and Zoro's looking back at him and wondering what _ did you choose _he's scowling as he says, "Move out of the way, shitty swordsman." 

He doesn’t. 

“I’ll stand in your way,” he says instead, and it’s not a declaration, but it’s something like that. Something of a promise, “This time, and next time too. I'm a pirate.” 

The cook scowls, but doesn’t kick out, doesn’t strike. Just watches him with blue eyes and warm golden hair. 

He takes a step to the side, and they’re standing shoulder to shoulder, back to back, and all he says is, “I know.”

It’s not a declaration, but it’s something.

**Author's Note:**

> I just re-read the entire series and now I have 6 WIPs on my desktop and this is just some kind of drabble I guess


End file.
